Hallelujah
by CurlyHairedDemon
Summary: Love is not a victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah.
1. Confession

_She tied you to a kitchen chair,_

_She broke your throne; she cut your hair,_

_And from your lips she drew the hallelujah_

_Hallelujah_

-

She was curled up on a bench staring out at the tranquil snow. Momo didn't feel tranquil, though. The Winter War was over, but its affects were still in her mind.

It hurt. It hurt a lot.

Every day, the dark-haired girl would stare the scar in the middle of her chest down in the mirror. As soon as she could stop sobbing, she would slowly do up her shirt and walk, dull and dead, to her duties.

Being left behind was so painful. Momo had worshipped him, loved him even, and Aizen had used her. Used her like a tool and left her.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a crunching of snow.

"Momo," Izuru's voice came kind and strained, full of worry and earnest. "I thought you might want this." He carefully draped a coat around her shoulders, nuzzling his face into his own comfy scarf.

"Thanks," she didn't say much to him these days. Izuru. Izuru, Izuru, Izuru. He had come to her, practically on his knees, begging for forgiveness, explaining that everything he'd ever done was to protect her, and he didn't deserve any sort of mercy.

That only made it hurt more. His penitence was his liberation, in its own way. Izuru was no longer chained to his past transgressions. Momo knew her absolution would truly free him, so she could never quite bring herself to say those words, "I forgive you."

That made her feel even more selfish, even blinder, even guiltier.

Izuru hadn't left her alone on the bench, now, though. Momo's gut twisted incriminatingly. What did he want? Her words of exoneration? No, Izuru would never come to her like this for her pardon. Not in a million years.

"Momo—" Izuru coughed to dislodge the hoarseness of his voice. "Sometimes, I still wish I knew what to say, even though I know there's no way I can fix this all."

Momo didn't say a word. Izuru sat down next to her anyways.

"But I—I just think you should know," he took a deep breath, "Aizen never loved you."

A small sob would have escaped from Momo's lips if she hadn't run out of tears to cry. She hadn't expected that name or this conversation. It was painful too, but she owed this at least to Izuru.

"I understand that," she whispered. "It was nice to pretend, though." Surprisingly, Izuru laughed, and surprisingly, it was a hollow and broken sound.

"Pretending has never done anyone any good," he ran a hand bitterly through his blond hair, tiredly closing his blue eyes.

"It makes people happy. Maybe that's good?" Momo posed her statement as a question, looking to Izuru.

"But it hurts when you've stopped pretending," the fact came so simply from his lips, but his numb voice echoed the depth of his understanding.

Momo nodded numbly, tired and sad.

"Momo—Aizen didn't really love you—" Izuru felt her flinch where he'd laid his fingertips on her shoulder "—but somebody did. There was someone who loved you—loved you so much that he couldn't ever think of words to describe how he felt." Izuru bit his lip.

Momo stiffened under his fingertips on her back. The snow catching on her dark, beautiful lashes, she turned to face him, her chocolate eyes wide with shock. Her eyes caught his desperately, asking a silent question.

Izuru nodded, smiling just a little sadly. He was happy that his pretending was over too, even though it burned him like fire and froze him like ice, this feeling of the end of his charade. It was unimaginably painful to stop pretending. It hurt so much.

He grabbed her hand and gave it a small squeeze as he rose to his feet. Kissing her on the forehead, Izuru gave her one last sad smile before he turned on his heel and left her alone on the bench in the courtyard as snow came down, freezing the world inside and out.

**-**

**That song from the top is by Rufus Wainright. It's called Hallelujahs, and I suggest you find it, because it really sets the mood for this fic. (and FYI, cut your hair refers to Delilah and Samson. Delilah destroyed his strength by cutting his long hair while he slept)**

**Dedicated to Elyse, my good friend and inspiration, and without whom, I would have never posted a thing for this pairing.**

**I'm not Catholic, but being a well-read, confessional Lutheran, I do know quite a bit about their practices. I've always wanted to do a KiraHina 3-shot named after the three stages of catholic confession. If you know what those are, then maybe you know what to expect, and if you don't, maybe you're in for a surprise!**


	2. Absolution

_Remember when I moved in you_

_The holy dark was moving too_

_And every breath we drew was hallelujah_

_Hallelujah_

_-_

Momo stared helplessly after Izuru as he walked away. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. _Izuru_ of all people was in love with her? It didn't make sense! Never in their decades of friendship had there ever been a hint or betrayal of his feelings to be seen in his actions or words.

Maybe Izuru was that good at pretending. Or maybe Momo was even more blind and foolish than she first thought.

Momo hugged her knees to her chest as tears came to her eyes. Now she wanted Izuru's gentle, protective embrace around her. She wanted him to whisper kind words into her soft, black hair. Momo wanted that now more than she had ever wanted before.

Maybe she was a fool.

Maybe she had hurt him so terribly with her ignorance.

Maybe that was all the world existed for: to hurt everyone.

And with that thought, Momo wept.

-

A few nights later, Izuru heard a rap on his door, very small, but very bold. His gut twisted in spite of himself and he tripped over his own feet, knowing who was behind that door.

As he slid the rice-paper portal open, Izuru's eyes fell pityingly on the slender form before him. Momo was panting and disheveled, obviously having run here.

"I'm sorry," Izuru lamented, feeling oddly familiar. "Maybe you weren't ready to hear all the things I said to you."

"Maybe it's time I stopped pretending that I'm so weak I'll never move on," the dark haired girl spoke through breaths "Maybe that won't hurt."

"Maybe," Izuru slid his hands into his pockets, biting his lip guiltily.

"And maybe I'm holding you back," Momo reached out to touch his face.

"Maybe," Izuru said again, smiling sadly. She understood how much he pined for her forgiveness, and how much he pined for _her_.

It was nice to be understood.

"I forgive you, Izuru," Momo whispered, her face inches from his.

Izuru closed his eyes and gave a long sigh. He had never expected those words to feel so bittersweet. His circle was complete. He was free from whatever guilt had shackled him to Momo. But maybe he liked be shackled to Momo.

Maybe he felt utterly and unbearably alone without that bond.

"A-and I'm sorry too," she stuttered as tears began to run down her face. "I'm sorry for _everything_. I'm sorry for being so _stupid_.

Izuru enfolded her very suddenly into his arms. Momo gasped slightly as she stumbled into his embrace.

"You have nothing to apologize to me for," Izuru murmured softly into her hair, "but even if you did, I'd forgive you. You know that, right?" He pulled his face away to look down tenderly at her. "You know that's how much I love you."

Momo buried her head into his chest, nodding as tears stained his shirtfront. Her fingertips dug desperately into the dark fabric.

Izuru placed a long, elegant hand on her waist as his other hand drew across her face, tilting her chin upwards. Momo stared at him, her face still masked with tears, wide-eyed and nubile. Izuru smiled sadly once again.

He bent down gently, tenderly and lightly slanting his mouth against hers. Momo's touch was shy, but she didn't draw away from him. Her hands tentatively lay on his chest as Izuru pressed her softly against him with a hand splayed across the small of her back. Her fingers slid quietly up his neck, twining with his smooth, cornsilk hair.

Gently kneading her lips with his own, Izuru took a slight step backwards, drawing her into the darkened building and out of the moonlight. Sliding the door closed, he swirled his thumbs tenderly on the skin of where her shirt had hiked up. Momo tightened her arms around his neck, suddenly fearful that she would be pushed away from this warm comfort. Her kiss grew deeper and more urgent, but, as he darkened the lantern sitting on a table, he pulled back and allowed her to see how dark his eyes were.

And Momo knew: Izuru would not push her away tonight.


	3. Penance

_And love's not a cry you can hear at night,  
It's not someone who's seen the light,  
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah  
Hallelujah_

-

Momo's tears came more easily after that. Izuru didn't mind, though, because he knew that this was her closure. She would break free from Aizen if she allowed herself to be upset about his betrayal, and to the enamored blond, that was all that mattered.

He would hold her when the tears came now. After the first time they made love, the night she had come to him to apologize and forgive, he woke up to the sound of her sobbing gently.

The sheets were pooled around her waist, and Momo, stark and nubile, stared numbly out the round window facing a private, snow-covered garden. Izuru too sat up, reflexively gathering the sheets around his lower half. Her bare shoulders trembled and shook as she fought resolutely not to cry.

Izuru made a half-hearted attempt to push the sleek of blond hair behind his ear as he gently splayed a square hand on the pale skin of the small of her back. He idly massaged the silken spot between her shoulders with his long fingers as she shuddered beneath him.

"It's cold," Momo whispered into her knees.

"D'you want me to get another blanket or—"

"Being let behind," she leaned against Izuru slightly, and her pale skin was frigid against his own, "it's like ice."

Izuru bit his lip, remembering the feeling of Ichimaru's disappearing spiritual pressure and Momo's flickering life force as he leaned against that wall where he had been left to die. It was worse than ice; it was a hole gnawing at your insides and twisting you into a million helpless pieces.

"And I can't stop crying," she whispered helplessly. "It's like… you made it okay for me to be upset about this…"

"Did I make you cry?" Izuru was thoroughly heartbroken at the thought as he drew her into a warm embrace, silently savoring the feeling of Momo warmly pressed against him in his bed.

"Yes…" Momo whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lay back down, holding her closely. "But I'm happy, too."

Izuru silently stroked her hair as she pressed her wet face into the broad plane of his chest. He stared blandly at the ceiling, silently begging Momo to forget everything horrible, because, as long as he lived now, nothing bad could ever—_would ever_—happen to her again.

"I'm happy because you love me," she whispered, moving to kiss him. Izuru was the wide-eyed one now. He made her happy. His love made her happy.

That was all Izuru had ever wanted. And that fact, that incredible statement from her soft, beautiful lips, brought tears to his eyes

Immediately, Izuru's hands went to her hips, feverishly skimming the fair soft skin.

As he cupped Momo's head in his hands, Izuru whispered one choked, hard word, his breath hot against her ear as she moved against him, drawing a trail of fire across his neck with her lips.

_"Hallelujah."_


	4. Redemption

The rains fell, the sun shone, and the leaves floated away. Soon, winter had returned.

They stood quietly next to each other on the darkness of the porch. Momo quietly entwined her fingers with him, leaning against Izuru slightly. Izuru leaned back as they looked out into the peaceful cold of the snow falling into the night.

They were together.

Momo loved Izuru. Izuru loved Momo.

She was his. He was hers.

And that was all that mattered.

**-**

**Ok, I know it was puny! I know the chapters were only collectively about eight pages! But it's my first attempt at a medium-sized fic for this pairing!**


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